


Yours

by silasfinch



Series: A Sunrise More [2]
Category: The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon
Genre: Courtship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Living Together, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 10:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20813387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silasfinch/pseuds/silasfinch
Summary: Eadaz du Zāla uq-Nāra courts the woman she loves in 500 sunrises.





	Yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariya167](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariya167/gifts).

> Still dyslexic - please be gentle with comments

"Will you dance with me, Ead?"

The casual way Sabran asks the question brings a smile to my lips. The stoic queen who all but demanded our first dance is gone. In her place is a woman who no longer fears to live openly, outside the confines and expectations of the Berethnet Legacy. The court has a long memory but a faulty one. Our scandal fades after so many years and the excitement of a new government. As my love likes to point out, we are not the first former queen and servent to build a life together. 

"I would be delighted to, My Lady."

We are back in Inys for the weeding of Arteloth Beck of Goldenbirch. There is no way either us would miss such an occasion. Sabran and Margaret are the chief architects of the ceremony and all visiting dignitaries. There isn't a love match on either side, but neither party is wanting such a thing. 

The union is to solidify the decade of peace between the West and East. Loth has a firm sense of duty to his province and the estate. Lady Annes Beek is thrilled to see her son belatedly form a match. Sabran assures me that arrangements like this can lead to a solid foundation of mutual respect and friendship between both parties. 

"Do not worry so, Ead. Both Loth and his new husband have the measure of each other. They have been corresponding for months; it is the best fit for all. In a way, it is similar to my union with Lieevelyn. The work of honour and duty but no hardship in the end."

"It covers me to hear you speak in such terms if Loth is half as fortunate with his husband as you were with yours. If only for a little while, then the union will be ideal indeed."

"Thank you for speaking of him in such respectful terms. Many would seek to erase a lover's past in favour of the future. You no such jealousies or possessiveness."

"I treasure anyone who brought you comfort in those dark days, even when we were half at work. Seeing you in the grip of night terrors broke my heart." I feel the faint stirs of magic as memories flood my mind. 

"Loth will find similar comfort in this match." 

I wait until we circle to edge of the place dance floor before continuing the conversation. Meg and Lintley are grinning at us madly from the sidelines. The Duke of Mowe looks like he is daring anyone to challenge the former queen's choice of a dance partner. Theoretically, I am still the Viscountess Nurtha. However, the old titles have less influence in this version of Inys. 

"Am I right to suspect you have a hand in this match? A mid-level noble in the Empoper's court? A widower looking for a fresh start with his children? How progressive of you, Sabran. Maybe we are as cunning as Tane claims."

"It did not take much to assure them of common ground and interest, Ead. There are many features of the diplomatic arts, even in the formal wear you despite so much."

My affection for this woman is so great. I dare to plant a kiss on her check in the shadow of the archway. For once neither of us is the centre of attention. Sabran is as close to a private citizen as she is ever going to be. I am free to court her in that way. 

**

** Day Ten: Household **

"I know this house isn't on the scale you are accustomed to, Sabran."

"I spent most of my life roaming empty halls, trying to avoid scheming courtiers. This place is nothing sure of perfect for us, Ead."

The scenario of showing a companion around a potential household is not one that I ever thought would happen to me. For so long, my life defines itself by prophecies, the Priority and peacemaking. My love for Sabran never wavers in close to 15 years, but it was also an abstract notion. 

We were not Sabran VII and Brilda of the Gale who oversaw a smooth tradition of power. The truth is, I would have settled in any place on the globe if it meant being with my Sabran in whatever form that reunion took. 

The practicalities of forming a household are at once thrilling and daunting. In the end, we choose a location that is relatively remote in this ever-shifting political climate. We are within easy reach of both Tane and the court of Inys. A small contingent of guards circles our lands regularly. Loth promises not to send extravagant housewarming gifts. 

** Day Twenty: Hope and Hindrance **

As I predicted during our reunion, neither of us slip unnoticed into the life of regular citizens. 

Sabran is faithful to her word and does not interfere actively with the forming of the new government, nor does she hound Roslain and Loth for updates. However, she does take an active interest in their household and the lands surrounding the holding. The once unproductive land begin to thrive under her care — Indifferent appetite strengths with produce grown from their impressive gardens. 

The staff are loyal and competent, but there isn't line in the accounts that the former queen isn't up to spend on. For someone raised in luxurious circumstances, she is surprisingly frugal. The only feverous expense is importing seedlings and young trees to encourage the Lovejays to sing in this place. 

"You have me you didn't need a constant orchestra to prove the point" I love as I wrap her in a hug. 

Sabran smiles against me and watches the birds in question. 

"I want to remember the comfort the song gave me." 

I sadden me how little comfort Sabran experiences in her life both as Princess Royal and as Queen. Something so simple as bird song should not mean so much, but it does. We will spend many nights filling in the gaps in our lives ten years makes. We are older but still younger enough to make new memories in the luxury of peacetime. 

** Day Fifty: Highborn **

"What is this?"

I feel a flash of uncertainty and insecurity clench my heart at the icy tinge to Sabran's voice. Both Loth and Meg assure me that I haven't overlooked any essential feature of the courting process. The love-knot token I am holding is suitably different from her first. I draw my inspiration from the symbol that Sabran VII gave her Brilda since she loves the story so much. 

The material carefully reflects our two lands and the syles of each. The sizing is perfect for my lover's delicate and long fingers. I even infuse the thing with the last traces of my magic to keep her hands warm in the winter months. Roslain Crest gives her consent to perform any services as the Duchess of Justice. 

Sabran looks as if I am offering a token from the Witch of Inysca. Her fingers clench at her side — the face which is usually full of such passionate and love if carefully blank. For a second a feel like Ead Duryan again trying and failing to fit into court life. 

"I told you I have no wish to marry again or seek any formal union. What we have together is enough, or at least I thought it was"

Sabran paces before me. My mind races back to our first vow over a decade ago. We were to meet on the shores of Perchling and find our somewhere. Now that we have this found like the next logical step. 

"I don't intend for us to marry with all the pomp and circumstance of court life Sabran just a few friends and family" I offer fruitlessly trying to work around the lump in my throat. 

Sabran looks at me sadly before moving towards the bedroom without saying a word to me. With the utmost care, she places the token on the table. 

** Day One Hundred: Happiness **

We are returning to Inys again. 

Every year dignitaries from all the noble houses and representative governments come together in celebration of defeating The Nameless One. The event is quite the production involving Dragons, fleets of ships and feasts catering for plaids from the four corners. We are slipping back into Inys on the _ Rose Eternal II _with minimal fanfare. 

Unfortunately, the tension and distrust are lingering between us even in our spacious cabin. The sound of waves and dragon wings overhead isn't enough to lull me to sleep. The captain and crew were wise enough to keep out of our way. 

Sabran is lying like a board in the far corner of the bed. Her limbs are practically vibrating tension. 

"I was a terrible wife to my consort. He was a decent man who did not have expectations of a royal alliance. However, that did not make my treatment of him any more forgivable. I don't think he slept a solid night in the entire length of our union due to my night terrors. Your tinctures stopped working after a while."

"Sabran..." 

"Do not comfort me, Ead. In this one thing, you do not have the right." 

"Nor do you have the right to know the heart and soul of a good and valent man long dead. He spoke about you in the most reverent and affection terms. This statement holds, in my presence and everyone in your private household. You were far from a burden on him, Sabran."

"You do not know that Ead for all your magical powers and the wonder of the Orange Tree."

"I am going to ask you again."

Sabran doesn't let me continue the comment. She reaches over and yanks me into the centre of the bed. Her hours of labour in the garden have brought strength to those limbs. Time away from Inys and the curse of her ancestor brings warm to her arms. A night away from this embrace is far too long. I can save the ceremonies for as long as she needs me too. 

"I am yours Ead" Sabran kisses the tears from my cheeks. 

I spent the night making silent vows against her skin until she will let me say the words. 

** Day Two Hundred: Humble **

Meg is sending her youngest children to us for safekeeping.

Margaret and her husband are making difficult decisions in service to the government. There is a new range of taxes hitting the nobles to help offset the costs of dealing with successive crop failures. The Council and family members were receiving threats and protests were happening in the streets. Nobody wants to see a repeat of Trudye's misguided uprising. The heirs will stay to help their parents content with the crisis. The younger children are potential targets for exploitation and ransom. 

"Our house is not designed for the presence of young children" Sabran frets as she surveys the guest bedroom. 

"Meg assures me their tutors will bring anything we do not have. Believe it not even children; this small came with plenty of supplies."

"We will keep her children safe" Sabran vows. 

** Day Three Hundred: Honour **

Time does not lessen Sabran's stubborn streak. 

My lover is a brilliant woman and ever bit the tactician of both her potential fathers. However, she bears the legacy of Egrain's betrayal and the 'failure' to perform her sacred duty when her Glorian died. Times are changing throughout the world and in Inys. However, publically admitting to being barren is still a sin in many people eyes. Sabran still considers this factor far more than I ever will certainly concerning our household. 

"Marabelle is an asset to the Mowre household. Margaret did well to tempt her away from Priory. Her talents are much more with children and mythical creatures."

"I see how much you enjoy corresponding with her about matters of the South and the raising of magical creatures" Sabran agrees neutrally. 

I place the letter down and glance at my lover curiously, trying to catch the strange note in her voice. Marabelle is from a family who guards Aralaq and his family in the southern lands. She is passionate about preserving their place in history, even if she chose to serve in another capacity — our letter many consists of sharing insights into helping to raise Ichneumon.

"I cannot offer you the traditional makings of a life partner. I am no more about to do that as a woman in my third decade than I was in my second. We have some freedoms now, but nothing is absolute." 

My pleasant contemplation of the new jam mixes comes to an abrupt halt. 

"Sabran have I ever struck you as the type of person to need a traditional anything in my life?" I try to coax a laugh 

"You haven't had many opportunities to consider such things. For your formative years, your options were limited. A young southerner..." 

"You are gathering rocks in your head again, my lady. There is no other rationale for thinking that Marabelle is or even could try to tempt me" I offer conversationally. 

"She has many attributes..."

I storm around the table startling the Lovejays on the window sells. I politely dismiss the staff before slamming the doors. 

I sink to my knees before kissing the protesting woman soundly. 

"I said vows to you in my heart every day for the last decade. Nothing changes that fact now, you stubborn fool."

** Day Four Hundred: Histories **

"Do you ever wish for a child, Ead?" 

After so many years of association, hours spent as her Lady of The Bedchamber, I am familiar with how Sabran's mind works. In the night hours, she is given to sombre reflection and often needs me to hold her close while providing a listening. 

The presence of the Mowre children is bringing up memories both painful and pleasant. Her minor temper tantrum over my possible connection to Marabelle is a symptom of a broader concern. I am grateful she feels she can unburden herself in this way even if I don't have a satisfactory answer to provide on this occasion. 

"I am a foundling in all but name, Sabran. The question of children was never a practical one in my youth. Even less so when Chassar began setting his sights on the West and the guise of Ead Duryan. Offspring are not set to become part of my legacy, but that does not cause me undue grief."

"You have the makings of a wonderful mother figure and teacher. Your students inside and outside the Priory still write to you at this remote location" Sabran begins her dark falling in waves. 

My bedmate lets out a small shriek of surprise as I roll on top of her. I rest my weight on my forearms while seeking out her amber eyes flicking with uncertainty in the dying candlelight. I summon a small mage light so that I can see her features better and convey the seriousness of the message. 

"I have spent a lifetime playing whatever role I need to get the job done that includes mother and teacher. However, the only role I ever want is to be yours, for the right of our lives" I growl against her ear.

** Day Five Hundred: Harmonies **

Sabran concedes to a formal union for entirely practical purposes. 

I sustain a mild injury while attending to the problem with the well on the northern border of our lands. The latest crop of young horses is still not accustomed to the slight and smell of dragon envoys flying overhead. For that matter, my of the townpeople still tread wearily when the couriers are overhead. The injury is minor and nothing in comparison to the hours I spent training the recruits at the Priory. However, I am not young anymore, and the bruising and sprain look impressive. 

"You must be more careful, Ead." 

Sabran doesn't pause in her careful wrapping of my wrist as she rails against my recklessness. In our years as minor landowners, my companion learns many skills. Healing my scraps and cuts is a particular passion. For someday, with such a previous loathing of the apothecary's arts, her study is beginning to resemble one. 

"It was a mirror fall; Dreamer got more of a fright than I did."

"Yes, I will marry you, formal ceremony and all." 

The words are so quiet and unexpected. I fear the fall has impacted my ability to reason. Sabran creases the bandage tenderly before smiling at me almost shyly. 

"Annes Beck was the caretaker over her husband ever since his accident. All the decisions regarding his care, especially towards the end were hers to make" Sabran offers what she probably believes to be an explanation.

"Sabran I promise you I am not in any danger from this or any other injury." 

"Nor are you immortal with skin like the Dragons. Whatever our future holds, I want to guide you into health when you are sick and honour your wishes as Annes did for her husband." 

"I will right to Roslain in the morning" I agree with a smile of wonder. 

"Besides I fought hard to claim my place by your side, Eadaz du Zāla uq-Nāra. Why shouldn't the fact not be written down into law for all the world to see?"

I chuckle at the undercurrent of jealousy in her tone. I am no prize to fight over, but the way she is gazing at me makes me feel like the most precious object on this earth.

"I think your forebearer and her lady would be proud of the fate of the last Barethnet."

Sabran answers by reaching for the love- knot on a chain around my neck.

**

"I do not wish to leave you so soon." 

There is a slightly piteous edge to my voice that Meg would scoff at before teasing me endlessly. As it is, Sabran looks like she is struggling to contain her mirth. 

"You are hardly leaving me Ead. The dispute you are sent to mediate is barely a day's ride from our current location. We have survived partings under much more trying circumstances than mediating a minor dispute between the Priory and the townsfolk" she points out reasonably. 

My irrational fear is painful to explain even to the person who knows me best. I measure time in association with Sabran Berethnet. This practice dates back to my earliest days training in the Priory. In one way or another, I have counted time going away or towards the former Queen of Inys. The fight with the Nameless One does not hold such a vivid place in my heart. As each decision to leave her for the sake of duty and honour. 

"I don't know why people persist in the notion that I am wise and the secret repository knowledge. All I do half the time is nod and agree with their ideas." Ead grumbles as she starts packing an overnight bag. 

"You are a figure of legend for helping to conquer the Nameless One and steering the Priory through the transition. There can be little operating in the shadows for you Eadaz du Zāla uq-Nāra" Sabran offers with an affectionate smile. 

My lady wife barely utters a word of protest as I sweep her from the chair into a fierce embrace. We don't need to talk about the sense of loss that still haunts our daily movements. Those ten years apart were harrowing.

"Take the lavender drought if the nightmares return. Send one of the Ichneumon after me if anything troubles you."

"I am not summoning the descents of heroic myth because I struggle to sleep without you. The scent lingering in your favourite dress shirt will suffice for a night and the Lovejay's song."


End file.
